The Dark Beauty Of It All Disturbs Me Into Magical Reaction by Paul Tristram

Tilting… first this way and then the other…
I Centre with a Focused Shudder
then EXPLODE into forward motion.
Out of range sirens lullaby…
owl-less boughs and charcoal skies
fermenting in mishap and mischief.
I have become a ricocheting Eccchhhooo…
pinballing neon midnight city streets.
She is a homeless jigsaw puzzle piece,
stroking a stray tom cat
upon the Harbour kerbside,
pretty enough, in her own way.
Yet, I have no time nor inclination
to confuse my zigzag
with complicated consideration…
the price, besides being too hiGH,
involves deceleration.
Each swift beer becomes a raMP,
you fluid-shuffle the heaving crowds,
melting around doorways
and always finding your feet
two steps before Landing.
I’d touch you but it would hurt both of us
and I am always merely visiting
and charging-on-through.
Filling the spaces with chaotic fists
and abstract, weaving fingers.
They have positioned The Graveyard
in the wrong place…
it is in the way of both Hillside and Ocean.

paul smoking - Copy

Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories, sketches and photography published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight; this too may pass, yet. Buy his books ‘Scribblings Of A Madman’ (Lit Fest Press) ‘Poetry From The Nearest Barstool’ at And a split poetry book ‘The Raven And The Vagabond Heart’ with Bethany W Pope at You can also read his poems and stories here!



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